


Alone Together

by MissjuliaMiriam



Series: Garrett Hawke [6]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: (they're so schmoopy I love it), Aftercare, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Partially Clothed Sex, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4968589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissjuliaMiriam/pseuds/MissjuliaMiriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure shameless porn, starring my "canon" Hawke and his smokin' hot bf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by [this ridiculously hot (also NSFW) artwork by frikadeller on Tumblr.](http://frikadeller.tumblr.com/post/23852594031/because-porn) It is pure shameless self-indulgent porn. The amount of fucks I give about writing this kind of thing has decreased drastically as time has gone on.
> 
> Reminder that my "canon" DA2 worldstate involves anxious baby Garrett Hawke and trans Fenris. If you have an objection to either of these things, this is probably not for you.

Garrett’s still half-dressed, and by half dressed he means almost entirely dressed, his shirt open to bare his chest, and yet he’s more turned on than he thinks he’s ever been in his life. It feels illicit, naughty, like something he might have done as a teenager, if he’d ever done this sort of thing as a teenager. He hadn’t. He sort of wishes he had, if this is how it could have been. And yet, he’s glad that almost all of the experience he’s ever had is with the man straddling him now. Fenris is heated and loose under Garrett’s hands, pressed close to his chest, entirely naked and beautiful, so beautiful. He’s giving all his attention to Garrett’s throat at the moment, kissing and biting; Garrett knows he’ll have bruises tomorrow, and he wants to laugh when he realizes that he just doesn’t care, for once he doesn’t care at all that the others will be able to look at him and know exactly what he and Fenris have been up to. He’s proud of it.

“Lie back,” Fenris demands, pulling away, and then he shoves at Garrett’s shoulders. Garrett complies, leaning back against the pillows. He’s got a lot of them, enough to form a comfortable nest for reading - or for this. For Fenris sitting across his thighs, his skin separated from Garrett’s only by the fabric of Garrett’s breeches. It’s really a shame, he thinks, and reaches down to remove them. Fenris only lets him get as far as undoing the laces before he slaps Garrett’s hands away. “No,” he says. “Clothing on.” But he pulls Garrett’s cock out, and strokes it once. Garrett moans and arches up as best he can with Fenris’s full weight resting on him.

“Oh, please,” Garrett begs. “Fenris, please.”

“No,” Fenris says, and pulls his hands away. Garrett nearly whimpers at the loss, but he loves it when Fenris takes control like this; he’s too embarrassed to admit it, but he loves being denied. “Touch yourself.”

“What?”

“As if you were alone,” Fenris says, and sits back, his green eyes hungry, devouring. “I want to see.”

“Fenris, please-”

“Do it yourself or else you can just watch and get nothing,” Fenris says, and slides a hand down his own chest, pausing at his chest to tweak a nipple. It makes him gasp, his hips twitching, shifting forward slightly. Garrett moans again at the sight. He can’t make himself move for a moment, not even to touch himself as Fenris has demanded - the sight is too captivating.

“Why?” Garrett asks, breathless. Fenris’s other hand has slid down between his legs, dipping in to stroke and circle, and Fenris’s lips part.

“Because I want you to,” Fenris says.

Garrett swallows hard. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, Fenris.” He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but the arousal he’d felt before has not waned - if possible, it’s increased. It’s a relief to wrap one hand around his own cock, his eyes still on Fenris, the place where Fenris’s fingers are hidden, moving between his thighs. He can’t pretend he’s alone. He doesn’t want to. But the motion of stroking himself is familiar, easy, and he can do that automatically, focusing all the rest of his attention of Fenris. Fenris is watching him just as intently, his gaze like a physical touch on Garrett’s chest. Maker, and he’s still in his shirt, still in his breeches, and Fenris is wearing nothing at all, every inch of lyrium-lined skin bared and shining with sweat in the low firelight of Garrett’s room. Garrett wants to reach out and touch, but he knows that Fenris will only withdraw further if he does. So he tightens his fist, flicking his wrist slightly, and he lets his head drop back to the pillows. A groan falls from his throat, then another. This pleasure is nothing compared to how Fenris’s hands feel on him, or how it feels to be inside him, but doing this knowing that Fenris is watching - well. It’s a unique kind of intensity, and he can hear Fenris’s small noises over his own moans. He’s not alone. He never wants to be alone again, but if Fenris wants to watch him, he’s happy to oblige.

“So good,” Fenris pants, and Garrett fists his other hand in the covers. “You’re so handsome, Garrett.”

“Thank you,” Garrett says, and then laughs, his hips jerking up slightly into his own hand. The things he says sometimes are so stupid, but Fenris never seems to mind. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Fenris says, and then, “Open your eyes.”

Garrett hadn’t realized he’d closed them. When his vision refocuses, he can see that Fenris has knelt up, all the better to get what looks like two fingers inside himself. Maybe three. Garrett’s mind is hazy, he can’t tell. “How - how many do you-” he chokes out, and then has to give up, because he can’t focus when he’s stroking himself so intently, but he doesn’t want to slow down.

“Just two,” Fenris says, and then his wrist flexes, and he moans. “Take it easy, Garrett. This is not a race.”

Garrett nods. He’s got no words left, but he obeys, slowing his hand and lightening his grip until it’s a teasing touch. He hadn’t realized how close he was to the brink already, just from his own touch and from watching Fenris. He’d glad Fenris dragged him back; he wants this to last forever. With just the drag of fingertips along his cock, it might well, but Garrett feels like even that much would be enough to get him off, hard as he is.

“What do you want?” Fenris asks. “Do you want me? Or to continue this way?”

“Whatever you want,” Garrett gasps, and tightens his grip just the tiniest bit; the tease was too unbearable. “Whatever - ah, Fenris, Maker. You’re so beautiful.”

Fenris chuckles, then rocks down slightly against his own hand, grinding. Garrett knows very well that Fenris can withhold his own orgasm almost indefinitely if he so chooses, and he can only pray that Fenris won’t make him wait as well. He’s done that before; it’s awful. He loves it, but it’s awful. Still, Fenris seems to be in a forgiving mood tonight, and maybe if he asks nicely his lover will be lenient.

“Do you - do you want me to do something for you?” Garrett asks. This, too, is a sort of selfishness, and he’s sure Fenris knows that.

“Not now,” Fenris says. “Go on, Garrett. I want to see you.”

Garrett sighs, and lets his eyes drift closed again. When Fenris doesn’t object, he lets himself get lost a little, finding a smooth rhythm with his hand. His cock is leaking enough that it’s comfortable, and he can feel Fenris’s warmth still through his breeches. That much is enough to relax him, and he tightens his hand once more, chasing orgasm. He doesn’t need to fantasize, not with Fenris right there, not with the vivid picture in his mind of what Fenris is doing to himself, but he lets himself imagine a little anyway. He conjures the things that Fenris might let him do once he’s gotten himself off; he wants to taste Fenris, he thinks. It’s been awhile since they’ve done that, and though it’s not something that Garrett had ever expected to enjoy, he’s found that giving Fenris so much pleasure is worth the mild disinterest Garrett has in the specifics of Fenris’s anatomy. If he doesn’t let it bother him, it doesn’t, and that’s enough for Garrett. Not to mention, Fenris is always so delighted by Garrett’s desire to serve, and that delight more than fuels Garrett’s desire. He thinks about the look on Fenris’s face the first time Garrett offered to use his mouth, the surprise that had lingered there. And then the sounds Fenris had made.

Garrett realizes that his hand has sped while he imagined, and now he jerks slightly into his own touch. Fenris is louder than he was before, though not much - he’s usually quiet. Between them, Garrett is the loud one, and his own moans are unrestrained, catching in his throat as he rocks into his hand. They make a gentle sort of harmony, and it sparks fire in Garrett’s belly, warming every part of him. “Fenris,” he says, and his voice comes out wrecked, desperate. “I love you. I love you, please, tell me - talk to me. Please.”

Fenris laughs again, and Garrett opens his eyes. Watching Fenris laugh is the best thing, almost better than watching him come. His whole face softens, lights up; he’s so beautiful when he’s happy. “Do you feel good?” he asks, and Garrett nods. “Excellent. This - oh - this is what I wanted tonight. To watch you feel good. You’re too hard on yourself, Garrett, but you’re so incredible in your pleasure.”

Garrett closes his eyes again, turning his face into the pillow. He’s sure he’s blushing. That doesn’t stop Fenris; nothing could, and Garrett doesn’t really want him to.

“Faster, love,” Fenris says, and Garrett obeys, a moan slipping past his lips each time his hand twists around the head of his cock. “You’re so good. You’re so good to me, for me. All this power,” he reaches out to touch Garrett for the first time, running a hand down his chest, “under my control. It’s a heady feeling, do you know that? To know that you obey me because you love me. That you want to make me happy. You give me so much joy, Garrett.”

“I do love you,” Garrett says. “I love you so much. Maker’s breath, Fenris.”

“I know you do,” Fenris says. “You’re mine. Come on, Garrett, you’re so close. I can see it.”

And Garrett can feel it, the tightening in his muscles, the building heat of pleasure that will swamp him when he comes. He tosses his head, arches into his fist again. He’s so close, and he just - he can’t--

Fenris’s hand wraps around Garrett’s, forcing his grip even tighter, and Garrett shoves up into their joined hands, a cry falling past his lips as he tumbles over the edge. Fenris is saying something, but he can’t make out the words; he’s lost in the wave of his climax. It seems to go on forever, Fenris helping him ride it out. He hadn’t expected it, the buildup to this orgasm strange, quick and yet slow, but he is forced to give himself over entirely to the intensity of it for many endless moments, until finally the world starts to trickle back in, and Garrett slumps down into the pillows, weak moans escaping on every breath.

“So good,” Fenris is saying, as he comes down. “So handsome, so beautiful. That was perfect, Garrett, so good. Come back to me, now, I’m here.”

“Fenris,” Garrett says.

“There you are,” Fenris says, and leans down to kiss him. He places his hands on Garrett’s shoulders, and one is just ever so slightly tacky - it reminds Garrett that Fenris has yet to reach his own peak.

“Let me,” he says, when their lips part. There’s so little space between them, the words are only a shared breath.

Fenris hums out and agreement, and rolls off of Garrett onto his back. Garrett follows, and slides down his body, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes. Fenris is already aroused, so wet Garrett can smell it in the air between them, so he doesn’t waste any time in tucking his shoulders under Fenris’s legs and pressing his face to their junction. Fenris gasps, and immediately both of his hands come down to tangle in Garrett’s unruly black hair. He swipes his tongue over Fenris’s folds one, twice, and then he presses two fingers into Fenris’s body and focuses his mouth on Fenris’s clit. Fenris moans and presses up into him, and Garrett holds his ground, letting him thrust and grind, seek his own pleasure. He’s happy enough just to curl his fingers into Fenris’s body, toward the spot that he knows gives Fenris the most pleasure, and to suck on his clit, and to let Fenris move however he wants. His taste is familiar, heady and thick on Garrett’s tongue, and he moans, giving Fenris the vibration.

“Fuck!” Fenris cries. “Another, Garrett, now.”

Garrett is quick to slide another finger into Fenris - it’s easy, he’s loose and relaxed, so very hot and slick, and Fenris thrusts down hard on Garrett’s fingers. Garrett flicks his clit with his tongue, and Fenris cries out again, his voice cracking. He must be close, Garrett thinks, and applies himself in earnest to Fenris’s pleasure, twisting his fingers and curling them, and pressing hard on his clit with his tongue. Fenris’s hands are tight on his hair, forcing his head down, and Garrett relishes the sharp tug. And then, abruptly, Fenris goes taut, every part of him tense. He tightens inside, and Garrett licks at Fenris’s clit, stilling his fingers, helping Fenris ride out his orgasm. He’s quiet when he comes, his voice gone away, but his shallow gasps are music to Garrett’s ears.

The moment Fenris pulls on his hair, Garrett comes away completely, knowing full well that Fenris hates to be overstimulated.

“Okay?” he asks, and knows from the way that Fenris is looking at him that his beard is wet with Fenris’s slick. “Good?”

“Very good,” Fenris says, and leans down to kiss him. Their mouths meet, open and wet, and they kiss languidly for a long moment. Fenris can surely taste himself in Garrett’s mouth, but he puts up no objection, and he never has before. When he pulls away, leaving Garrett with heavy breath and flushed cheeks, he says, “Go get a cloth to clean us up. And maybe get out of your clothes.”

Garrett glances down at himself, just now remembering that he’s still in his shirt and his breeches, and his stomach is covered in his own mess. “Right,” he says, laughing slightly, and he heads for the wash basin set on his desk, shrugging out of his shirt as he goes. He undresses and then heats the water with a touch of magic-warmed fingers, and returns to Fenris to wipe him down gently, first the sweat from his throat and chest, and then the worst of the stickiness between his thighs. He attends himself quickly, and then leaves the cloth on the bedside table to crawl under the covers with Fenris, their limbs tangling.

“I love you,” he says, and presses a soft kiss to Fenris’s jaw.

“And I you,” Fenris replies. “Sleep.”

Garrett hums agreement, and with Fenris’s soft skin-scent filling his head, he obeys.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos are very welcome. I can be found on Tumblr [here](http://motherfuckingnazgul.tumblr.com/).


End file.
